


Of Detectives and Vigilante

by Moonsey



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batman - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 00:07:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonsey/pseuds/Moonsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before they were partners, they were enemies. Or that's how Gordon see's Batman and he is set on bringing him to justice. The new detective will do anything to stop Batman from terrorizing Gotham and it's people. Alternative story, slight ooc, and a little slash. Quick paced story line.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Detectives and Vigilante

**Author's Note:**

> Ooc – alternative stories – I know this isn't how it's suppose to go, but this is just fanfiction.

Gordon stepped out of the black SUV and pulled his raincoat hood over his head. He drew his hand over his face to stop the piercing rain stinging his cheeks. It was another storm in Gotham city, and the harbor area was wet and overflowing with water from the sea. The ships were hurdling around with the high waves and hitting the walkway. With every collision from the large cargo ships, the walkway bridge moved an inch to the left. The detective held his head low and walked behind a few police officers.

"Who found the body?" Gordon had to scream at one of the cops. The place was so loud with waves, no one could hear each other clearly.

The cop yelled back, a hand over his cap to prevent it from flying away, "One of the cargo workers saw, called the captain and the captain called us."

Gordon wiped at his wet face, "Why didn't he call us directly, why go to the captain?"

"Foreign worker, doesn't know much!" The cop led Gordon into the warehouse, where the forensics team had already invaded.

The detective took a deep breath, pulled down his hoodie, and dried himself with a towel that a forensic crew member threw at him. "Thank you," he said.

"Are you Detective James Gordon?" A crouched down female looked up, her white plastic cover all was damped in blood.

"Call me Jim," Gordon eyed the body, and than the woman. "Did you take a bathe in the blood or something?"

"I'm Mary," She said, getting up and shoving her glasses with her right pinky, "And No, It's paint, just like the paint surrounding this man over here." She gestured over the fake blood pool on the floor. "This man is bloodless, drained, dead."

Gordon raised his eyebrow, "I can see that he is dead." He bit his lip, and observed the victim. A young man in his late twenties or early thirties laid on his stomach. His lips were blue and his body was very pale, there were no visible puncture wounds on his back. The detective walked around him. Blood, scratch that, paint was pooled around him body, for what? Gordon looked up, "Turn him over."

Mary took a hold of the victim's shoulder and spun him. The dead man's face fell to the left as his body faced up. "No wounds," she said, hands going into one of his pockets. She tapped the rest of the pockets for a wallet or anything else and shook her head, "No wallet, cell phone or anything else."

"Nothing, huh?"

"Nope," Mary stood up and went to talk to her cameramen.

Gordon looked around the warehouse. The place smelled like fish, which was evident, it was a fish warehouse. There were cargo containers at the end of the large floor, no pillars, no backdoors, and no other rooms. A place like this would have been ideal for a murder - with no cameras or even people around, the place was absolute for a murder - but the murder of this young man didn't take place here. That much was conclusive, the kill had taken place elsewhere, so the men being interrogated by fellow cops won't help much. They weren't suspects, neither were they accessories In the crime.

"Body's been here for at least two days, but he's been dead for over a week." Mary came back and stood beside Gordon. She was a foot shorter than him, and her body was full. She crossed her hands over her chest, "What do you think happened?" She pulled down her forensics' cover hood to reveal red hair.

"Murdered,"

"Really?" Mary mocked, as if she didn't know.

"A family man, a father out with his family," Gordon's voice sharpened, "kidnapped and murdered."

"How do you know this?"

"His clothing," Gordon pointed, "he is wearing casual summer attire. Even though it gets chilly around these days, it was over ninety degrees last Tuesday through Thursday, and there was a carnival going on. He might have went there with his family." Mary opened her mouth to question, but Gordon cut her out, "There's a circus stamp on his wrist. It's light, washed up, but you can see the edges of it. I've seen it before."

"He could have gone home and washed it, and than gotten kidnapped."

"No, he never got the chance."

Mary gave him a look, "Are you just making this up,"

Gordon shook his head, "No, and I'm still working it out, so don't take it as facts and write it down."

Mary rolled her eyes, "I won't. You people are in charge of the writings. I just figure out the cause of death."

A young man called for Dr. Riaz, and Mary gave a nod. "So, I'll just send you my results later this week." Gordon agreed and watched her go over to the other man, he heard her giving instruction to everyone, "let's pack and go."

"Sir," One of the police officers offered him a hot coffee, "how far do you want me to tape the scene?"

"The entire warehouse," Gordon wrapped both his hands around the coffee cup, welcoming the warmth. "Is everyone else leaving?" The place was being vacated as quickly as everyone had arrived.

"No. Me, Jack and Bobby will be staying. Standard, you know." The young man said before exiting and leaving Gordon all by himself.

"Okay, then.."

The forensics van pulled out and left. The few police cars and the second SUV fled as fast. You'd think a crime being committed would attract the attention of Gotham police, but even that wasn't the case. There were priorities, but a dead father and a husband wasn't it. Gordon bit the inside of his cheek and stared at the victim, suffocated, probably a bag over his head.

Two cops entered the warehouse with foldable chairs, each carried two. "Will you be staying?" One of them asked, putting one of the chairs down and fixing the other.

Gordon shook his head, "Not for long."

"Okay," the other nodded.

"Was the place checked thoroughly?" Gordon stepped around the cargo containers, the place was very clean.

"Yes, sir. Even recorded by entering. We've sent the records in already."

"Okay, good. I'm going to check around,"

"Done that!"

Gordon gave a fake smile, he'd rather look himself, "Was that recorded as well?" he asked.

"Not mandatory."

"Okay, I'll just go." Gordon blew at his coffee, steam scattering away. "Can I borrow one of your torches?" he asked.

One of the guys gave it to him, but not before he promised to return it immediately. Of course, even a torch lost would be a loss for the Gotham police services, low budget and all.

The police tape was a foot away from the warehouse, the cop in charge was running towards him. "Something the matter?" he asked. The cop shook his head, the tape had run out. "Alright, good job." He marked. It was dark by now, the rain was still hammering down and the sea was loud as ever. Gordon pulled on his hoodie and took a sip of his steaming coffee, it tasted marvelous.

There were hundreds of cargo containers in the area, and about twenty more warehouses. The place was too large for one man to check, but being scratched already, it wasn't a bad idea to revise the nearby area more intently. Last time he had found the weapon of murder after being told a similar tale. He wasn't expecting to find a weapon though, he needed something, whatever it was, he'd know when he found it.

He entered between two large containers, the light from the dead victim's warehouse was running out, and he turned on his torch, looking up and down and where ever the light fell on something. His glasses were blurred, and he constantly wiped at them. His coffee was being filled with raindrops, he took another sip of his coffee and walked down the remote pathway. The place was deserted. The rain had kept everyone indoors and no new ships were being approached on to the harbor.

Water was up to his ankles, the sea was overflowing and Gordon reached the end of his container holding column and looked onwards at the sea. A few ships in the area would be permanently damaged by the end of this storm. He huffed, cold mist escaping his mouth. There wasn't much to see, Gordon took a left, and continued his slow pace search.

"There's no evidence here," A rough, memorable voice startled Gordon, his temper springing instantly and hastily turning around, to his surprise, Batman was at close distance, and Gordon panicked, coffee falling. He quickly reached for his gun, but Batman had it seconds before Gordon could shove it out. "Not this again." Batman said, stepping back.

Gordon mocked, "Sore about last time?" maybe he was a little alarmed but not as scared as another cop or detective would have been if they'd been In his shoes. Gordon knew showing fear to this so called vigilante was the only reason he kept winning, the detective held back his true feelings and ignored his fear.

"No,"

The last time they met, a gun fight erupted. Shooting on his part, a fist from the other. "Of course not, why else would you go straight for my gun." The detective held the torch straight at Batman's face, the dormant man looked at him without expression. The detective looked at his gun, which was covered in Batman's gloved hand, he nervously pestered, "What are you doing here, came to revisit the scene? I heard you were a sociopath. Came to see your handy work?" he knew the murder hadn't been committed by this man, but Gordon still accused.

"I need to see the body," Batman said, voice cool and sufficient. None of Gordon's mouthful had got to him, he's been told worse.

"Like you haven't seen already," he nudged his face in the direction of the only occupant warehouse.

"I haven't seen it, your people are there. They need to leave!"

The last part was an order, Gordon snarled, "You are in no position to give orders, why don't you do me a favor and leave. I have a job to do, unless you want to give me a reason to put more charges against you." There was a loud thunder in the background and the wind changed the direction rain was falling in. The heavy waves were washing ashore, and water was rising. Batman was standing still, a man with the intention of butting into a crime scene that didn't involve him was becoming a nuisance. "I don't want a repeat of what happened last time."

"I'm trying to help, detective!" Batman growled, making the other man scowl. "I'm on your side."

"My side?" Gordon stepped forward, his sense of self security diminishing. "I don't go around Gotham terrorizing people to death, I follow the rules, I've earned-"

"How many criminals have you captured with your rules?" Batman interrupted, voice expressing frustration and anger, "How many deaths have occurred by the same criminals because your rules weren't good enough. Last week I gave you a maniac, you think your rules would have helped secure seventeen people that were being held at gun point?"

"That manic would have been captured if you hadn't interrupted, and you know it."

"That maniac was captured!" Batman corrected.

There was a ninety nine millimeter gun secured to his right ankle, Gordon contemplated pulling it out and shooting Batman straight between the eyes. "We could have brought him to justice without you breaking his bones, your interruption was unnecessary! We had everything under control."

"It didn't look like it was under control. I remember a gun to your head, another bleeding officer, and a squad outside failing to notice the rescue mission gone astray."

Gordon clenched his fist and held the torch with a strong grip, despising over the fact that Batman had saved him from possible death, "I didn't ask for your help."

"You didn't had to ask."

Cool air hit Gordon and it sent chills down his spine. The rain and wind was taking a toll on his body, he hadn't realized it before, but he could see how the torch was trembling. His entire body was shivering and getting tight. His hidden gun seemed like a good idea now. There was no light, except the gleam from the torch, if he turned it off and on, he could have the gun pulled out and pointed at Batman in seconds. Not sure if it'll work, but at least the others would be alerted when he started shooting. He choked back, nervously clearing his throat. Batman was staring at him with ambiguity. His jaw was tight and his body was ready to extent in any kind of danger, or shooting in this case. Last time he had shot him, Gordon had about few seconds to notice if blood spilled - he'd been rendered unconscious in seconds - no blood had been found afterwards.

Gordon hesitated before turning the damn torch off, it was risky, but there was nothing to lose, or so he hoped. His hand trembled at the touch of cold water. It felt like an entire minute of struggling to pull the gun out of the holster, but the mere seconds it took to pull the gun out and point It forward; Batman had disappeared from the spot. He flashed the torch all around, the dark knight was no where to be seen.

"Detective!"

Gordon turned around swiftly, gun going off immediately. He shot twice, but hit no one. His breathing became rapid, and he grew anxious by the seconds. Batman was hiding in plain sight, he just couldn't see clearly with the smeared glasses on. He swore something move on top of a cargo container and he shot again, stepping closer and holding out the gun, something moved behind him. A sharp metallic object hit the gun and sent it flying, Gordon shook his hand In distress as he failed to notice Batman advance towards him. As soon as Gordon looked up from his hand, he flashed the torch in front of him, but his arm quickly mount high In the air with a strong grip around his wrist. His other hand tried to shove the dark knight off, but he knew it was impossible. Batman was right in his face and Gordon looked up at him furiously. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and he could see Batman's menacing figure. Gordon mentally cursed himself for taking the man on by himself.

"I'm sorry I have to do this," Batman said, and promptly sent a repressive blow into Gordon's guts. The detective's knees gave way and sent him stumbling down, coughing vigorously. "I can't let you stop me from doing this."

"Detective Gordon?" "Detective" "Where are you?" Sounds came from behind the few containers.

Gordon looked back, glad the officers were making way. Who knew what Batman was capable of next. He looked again towards where Batman should have been, but stared emptily without expression. Where'd he go now!

"Detective!"

Gordon was on his knees, he tried to stand up, but quickly realizing the pain gave him grief. "I'm fine," he shoved away the hands of the police officers, the other two ran ahead, guns pointing at possible threats. "It was Batman," he said, squinting his eyes as one on the men flashed their torch right at him, "and he disappeared."

"We need to call back up."

"It's too late for that," Gordon said, "he's already gone."

"Where'd he go?" "Why was he here?" "This should be reported."

The detective couldn't tell from who was who, they were all talking at once.

"Why was he here?"

"He wanted to see the body," Gordon chocked, "He left after hearing you - " of course, he wanted to see the body. He wanted them to out of the warehouse and the three officers were here with him, which meant the warehouse was empty and Batman was clearly there. Using the alteration as an advantage, "He's in the warehouse." He said. Batman would have collected the evidence and studied the body already and maybe already fled, but that didn't stop Gordon from yelling at the cops to go back to the warehouse. He winced and slowly got up, following behind the officers.


End file.
